Meow Mix
by Undertaker's Madness
Summary: While musing over his tea, Hatter Undertaker gets a surprise visit from his wandering kitty. Just a silly, fun little ficlet I wrote to cheer myself up a bit. Yaoi, humor, fluff, kimonomimi


"Meow Mix" A Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) ficlet

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**Author's note:** After watching "Ciel in Wonderland" again, I was stricken by a powerful need to write a little fanfic pairing Hatter Undertaker with Cheshire Grell. I thought it would be good stress relief, so I went with it. I don't usually write whole stories in First Person, but I decided to make an exception for this one. **Fair warning:** there is kemonomimi (humans with animal ears/tales) soft porn in this ficlet.

**Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso. I make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only.**

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What can I say about Tea Time? It's really the most wonderful part of any given day. You get to sit back and enjoy your favorite blend of tea, chat with your friends and forget all about your problems for a bit. It's always nice when a newcomer joins too, because it presents the opportunity to meet someone new and interesting and perhaps extend the social circle. The Alice boy was certainly interesting. At first, we weren't going to let him in because he showed up unannounced, but our sleepy Dormouse companion insisted that he sit down with us for a spot of tea. I'm glad that he did that, truthfully. The Alice was very fun to play with. He didn't scare easily, and I adore a good challenge.

Sadly, the boy in the blue and white dress hasn't returned to our table, since he vanished at the trial. Nor have we seen the White Rabbit around, since then. The Hare is all too satisfied with the latter, though. I don't think he cared much for that rabbit at all. My, did that vein in his forehead ever throb when the Alice compared him to the Rabbit! He didn't like that one bit; though I found his reaction quite amusing.

Now, it's been just the three of us again. I asked the Hare yesterday how much time had passed since we last had a visitor at our table, but his watch hasn't been working quite right for a while. "Tomorrow at eight," he said.

Now, I'm just as mad as the next fellow here, but that didn't make much sense to me. How could our last visitor have been someone that won't even arrive until tomorrow? I overfilled my teacup trying to work it all out in my noggin, and I ended up having to slurp it out of the saucer again. I think it's rather fun when that happens, but Hare looked at me with that snooty expression, like I was offending him by enjoying my tea. What a tea snob.

I ignored his contempt and opened my favorite book of limericks—upside-down, of course. You should never read them downside-up, contrary to popular belief. It doesn't make you _think_ about the text hard enough.

I must have nodded off, because the next thing I knew, I was falling out of my chair and it was early morning. I found my book lying in the sparse grass growing up between the broken cobbles, and I retrieved it and found my page, before retaking my seat. I checked my own pocket watch—a thing which I rarely do because it's forever slipping my mind that I even have one—and I saw that the hour was approaching eight in the morning.

Dormouse was snoring softly nearby and the Hare was lying partway over the table, with his head in his folded arms. His long ears twitched in his sleep, and I found myself wanting to tug on one of them. I started to get up to do just that, but then I felt something kneading my leg from under the table.

I'm sure I don't need to tell you that I don't scare easily. I was more curious than alarmed. I lifted the tablecloth and leaned over to have a peek, just as a grinning, sharp-toothed mouth appeared right between my legs.

I must admit; that gave me a bit of a start.

"Meow," said a familiar, lazy voice.

Dormouse must have heard it in his sleep, and his ears twitched as he snorted awake. "C-cat?" he asked.

"Indeed," I answered.

Well, that didn't go over very well at all. Dormouse is usually quite fearless, but he does on occasion have the odd nightmare that he's one of his much smaller cousins, getting eaten by a cat. Quick as the overgrown rodent that he was, he scrambled onto the table and scattered teacups and spoons everywhere.

"Where?" he wailed, and then he went straight to the Hare for protection.

Willy didn't like being woke up that way, either. He sat up straight and sputtered in that indignant way of his, while Dormouse climbed into his lap and nearly toppled him over.

"What is the _meaning_ of this?" demanded the Hare.

"Got a visitor," I answered, smiling down at the fair face that had now materialized around the grinning mouth and the red-framed glasses. Cheshire purred up at me, curling his fingers against my thighs happily. I reached down to give my kitty a scratch on the head, right between his fluffy, pink-striped ears. He purred and his rump came up, bumping against my table.

"Meeeooow. I missed you, Hatter. I think I got lost in the woods, somewhere."

I chuckled. "Chasing the rabbit, no doubt."

I ran my fingers through his soft, vivid red hair. I do love to do that. It's so smooth and shiny, like satin. I know I'm not the only man he seeks attention from, but in the end, I'm the one he always comes back to. Cheshire Grell rubbed his cheek against my leg, and his hands kneaded further up my thighs. I felt myself getting a wee bit happy under the touch, and I checked to be sure my companions weren't looking.

They weren't. Hare was trying to keep his balance in his seat without dropping Dormouse. When Cheshire emerged from under my table to climb into my lap, Dormouse relaxed in the Hare's arms.

"Oh, Cheshire. It's just…" he yawned, "…you."

He fell right back to sleep then, apparently satisfied that Cheshire wouldn't try to eat him. Hare made an exasperated sound, but he didn't try to shove him off of his lap. Personally, I think he liked it. Hare began to drift off to sleep again, with his dozing companion comfortably tucked into his arms.

"So tell me," I said to the purring treat nestling in my lap, "did you ever catch your rabbit, my dear?"

Cheshire's ears drooped, and he shook his head. "Alas, he was to quick for me. But you won't run from me, will you, Hatter?" He smiled at me as he said it, fluttering his long lashes at me over his vivid eyes.

"I never do," I agreed. I began to stroke his back with long, slow motions…just the way he liked it. He purred again and nuzzled my hair. My hat got knocked off, but I just let it drop. I was enjoying spending time with my precious puss too much to care.

"Did you miss me, my handsome love?" pressed Cheshire, dropping one hand into my lap without warning.

It's not so easy to concentrate on a smart response, when you're getting your jewels appraised by an amorous cat.

"More than words can describe," I grunted. I've never really been the shy sort, but Cheshire was getting me into a state quickly. While Dormouse would probably sleep right through it if I bent my affectionate kitty over the table and relieved his desires right there, Cheshire's mewling cries would probably wake the Hare up, lickety-split.

"Not right now, love," I warned him, and I reached down to gently remove his kneading hand from my bits. "It's still tea time. Wait for sunset, and we can retire to my crypt."

Cheshire pouted. "I've gone without love for too many days! Why can't we go? They won't care."

I'm sure I don't need to tell you how tempting that offer was. Cheshire is so bloody cute when he gets fussy.

He started to demonstrate that cuteness by chewing on my jacket, worrying it with his teeth. He must have swallowed one of the buttons, because he suddenly started to cough and gag. Worried for him, I sat up straighter and poured him some fresh tea.

"Here, sip this," I said, holding the cup to his lips when the coughing fit died down.

He delicately sipped the steaming beverage, drinking in that endearing way of his. He gave me another nuzzle when he was finished, and he purred into my ear. I set the teacup down and I resumed petting him. His tail swished and it knocked a spoon off the table, reminding me of how hazardous he could be when he started to squirm. I scooted back to avoid more destruction, and I scratched his left ear. He mewed softly and slipped a hand into my jacket, his fingers curling against my vest in that delightfully sweet way.

"Hatter," he murmured.

"Mmm?"

"I want to go to the crypt _meow_."

I'm sure he meant to say "_now_", but Cheshire has always had trouble with that word. Personally, I find it frightfully adorable and I can't stress how difficult it is for me to resist granting any request he makes, when he asks that way. Still, I was determined to show him that even I couldn't be expected to answer his every whim.

"Not yet, darling," I told him. "Be patient." I kept petting his back and hair, and I reached for my tea to take a sip.

"But I've been patient," whined Cheshire, squirming in my lap. He worried my purple bowtie with his teeth to get my attention again when I deliberately resumed sipping my beverage. "Hatter!"

"Don't talk with your mouthful, you spoiled little puss," I chastised, grinning into my cup. "Willy will get you for that, if he spots it."

"Dormouse Ronnie will weigh him down," predicted Cheshire slyly. "Please? Just for a little while?"

Cheshire shifted in my lap to straddle me, and he began to rub up against me as he started kissing and licking my neck. I kept drinking, though I surely enjoyed each swipe of his tongue against the scar circling my throat. His tongue is just a tad rougher than a standard human variety; though not as rough as a true cat's against the skin. Being a Cheshire and therefore half human, he shared qualities of both feline and man. We have a lot of folk like that, here in Wonderland. If anything, full humans are the minorities, here. Animals, insects and in-betweens are the majority in this place.

"You must want me to convince you," Cheshire Grell guessed with a purr. He nibbled my earlobe, just enough to make it sting, but feel good at the same time. "Don't be shy, my silver love."

"Shy? Me?" I chuckled, and I set aside my teacup to give his tight little bum a two-handed squeeze. "You know better than that, kitty."

I gripped the base of his fuzzy, striped tail with one hand and I stroked it suggestively, making him mewl softly under his breath. "I'll take good care of you, pretty puss. Just let me finish my tea, first."

"Oh! How cruel," whined Cheshire when I released his tail and reached for my tea again. "You always tease me so, Hatter!"

I grinned at him, just before taking a leisurely sip of my drink. "Maybe so, but I always deliver in the end, don't I? I'll make you feel really, really good if you behave yourself."

I was actually putting myself in more of a state, just by talking about it. I kept imagining the last time he came by for a visit, and the hours we spent playing, making love and snuggling together. I started to think of the way he always lifted his tail up and to the side when he was ready for me, and the way he looked over his shoulder at me with those "come hither" bedroom eyes of his, all naked with his pale, perfect bum in the air and…

Where was I? Oh yes…tea. It's important to take into consideration the number of guests you're going to have at a party, when you blend your tea and steep it. Regardless of whether you prefer Chamomile, Green, Black, Oolong or any of the countless blends of herbs and tealeaves, you must always…

Wait. I wasn't talking about tea before, was I? No, I was talking about my kitty. So sorry about that; I don't know where my mind went. As I was saying, Cheshire was being fussy and I was trying to pacify him, but he kept getting in my face when I tried to drink, and he kept showering me with little kisses. I nearly spilled my tea in my lap, and I finally decided it was time to pacify him.

"Settle down," I ordered, trying not to grin. He looked so darling with his ears lying down over his bright red hair, like that. I started to unbutton his white shirt, moving his striped scarf out of the way as I did so. "Be a good kitty, and I'll give you a bit more attention."

He gave me one of those fawning looks, and his ears perked up. He purred and rubbed against me more insistently as I pushed the buttons through the holes to open his shirt. I teasingly pretended to nip at him when he started to give me a kiss, and he nipped back. My lower lip caught on his teeth and I winced as they drew blood, but it was an accident. My kitty does have quite sharp teeth. I can't say I envy anyone that feels them bite down in earnest.

The shirt came open, and I slipped a hand in and dragged my fingernails over his torso. I grinned as he squirmed in delight and shivered. That tail of his practically curled into a corkscrew in reaction, and I kept it up. Cheshire's breath quickened and he made a little sound against my ear; something between a mewl and a moan. I quite liked that, so I did my best to make it happen again. I rubbed one of his nipples and he rewarded me with that special little sound again. His lips were hot and soft against my skin as I raked the nails of my free hand over his belly, gently scratching it while I teased his little pink nipples.

"Hatter," my kitty murmured, his voice breathy, sweet and needy in my ear. He began to knead my chest and shoulders with his hands again, his red nails lightly scratching the material of my clothes.

"Soon enough," I promised him—though it was a wonder I hadn't popped a button on my trousers, yet. I think I was in as bad a state as he was, by this time. Time never had a lot of meaning to a fellow like me, but I always did notice its passing more when my kitty wasn't around to cuddle.

I ran my nails down over his lower abdomen, traced his darling little navel with one of them, and then dragged them over the bulge between his legs. He gasped and hugged me around the neck, nigh choking me in his excitement. I shifted a little so I could have enough room, and I began to pet him down there, palming the swollen package in his trousers and massaging it.

You might be asking yourself why I would do such a thing, when I had just admonished Cheshire for trying to do the same to me. It's quite simple, really. The cheeky puss makes me randy and I always eventually forget my manners, when he's around.

He made what was left of those manners go right out the non-existent window when he reached down and gave my aching bits a coaxing squeeze and a rub to match what I was doing to him, and that was when I decided I didn't want any more tea.

I vaguely recall swiping cups, saucers and pots off of my table, before standing up with my kitty and dropping him down on top of it. I _did_ hear the crash of them hitting the cobbles, but I was so intent on my darling sex kitten that it hardly phased me. I placed him on his back on top of the table and I immediately followed him down. I kissed him hard enough to make both our mouths bleed against his teeth, but we were both quite used to that. His thighs went around my waist and he cried out as I wedged a hand into his pants to touch him.

"_Hatter! Cheshire! Stop that at once!_"

The Hare's indignant cry reminded me why I usually took to my crypt right away, when my wandering kitty came a-calling. Cheshire's shirt was hanging wide open, his cheeks were flushed a delightful shade of pink, and his pale chest was rising and falling rapidly. He bit the back of his gloved hand and he looked over at the Hare guiltily.

"Don't be mad, Will! Hatter was going to take me to his crypt, but I—"

"Did what you always do," interrupted the Hare with a sigh, his long, brown ears twitching. "You know he has no self control with you, cat."

Dormouse stirred in his lap and blinked sleepily. "C-cat?"

"It's nothing," Hare assured. "I'm merely lecturing our tea companions on proper manners…again."

"Oh." Seeing that the only feline around was still Cheshire, Dormouse shrugged and yawned. "Leave them be, Hare. They're only…having…fun…zzzzz."

He fell right back to sleep again, leaving his party-pooper companion glaring at Cheshire, more than me. I shrugged and levered myself off of my kitty, and I coaxed him into my arms.

"Come on then, my dear. Let's seek the crypt before the Hare gets a nosebleed."

I heard the Hare harrumph grumpily behind me as Cheshire eagerly clung to me and let me carry him away from the table. I'm fairly sure my kitty stuck his tongue out at Will as we left, but my mind was on other things. His fingers curled around the single braid I wore woven into my hair and he sighed happily in my ear.

I'm sure I don't need to tell you what we got up to, once we made it to the privacy of my crypt. I've been rather descriptive already. In closing, I would like to say that you should always be kind to your kitty, whether it's a full feline pet or a Cheshire companion. Affection is always rewarded in some way, if you are.

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-The End


End file.
